


Snow Shadows

by Timballisto



Category: Frozen (2013), How to Train Your Dragon (2010)
Genre: Baby!Toothless, During Canon, Gen, Pre-teen!Elsa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-05 04:06:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timballisto/pseuds/Timballisto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elsa wanders the palace grounds late one winter night and finds a friend. Baby!ToothlessxPre-teen!Elsa friendship</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In my headcanon, Baby!Toothless is a newborn who got separated from his mother, possibly by a snowstorm. Toothless can't fly yet, but he can still wander around on his feet which is probably how he got lost in the first place. Elsa takes him in, feeds him, and keeps him warm until he's about the size of a small pony, and then he's just too big to hide from Elsa's parents, and he can fly so... they say goodbye and Toothless flies north to try and find his family. Then he gets caught by the Red Death, and HTTYD happens. It's pretty adorable in my head, so I'm going to post intermittent one-shots, probably.

Elsa found the little thing curled up beneath a dead log, shivering and half-dead in the cold. It was a dark winter night—safe for her to get some fresh air without the possibility of running into Anna on the grounds of the palace or being seen from her bedroom window. It was positively freezing, but Elsa eschewed the heavy woolens, scarves, and gloves she usually had to wear to keep up appearances. They made her hot and itchy and she didn't really need them but—she crouched down to look at the black animal that was freezing to death in the snow and she wishes she'd at least brought her coat to wrap the poor thing in.

She reached out, gently brushing the bumps of it's head dislodging the snow there. The rough texture of scales scratched beneath her fingernails, like the hide of the lizards that crawled all over the castle gardens the summer. The thing shifted, twitching slightly at the unexpected touch. Slowly, sluggishly, the animal opened its eyes.

"Oooh." Elsa breathed, getting on her hands and knees to get a better look at the thing's beautiful green eyes. Never in her life had she ever seen an animal with eyes so vibrant and… human looking. It was bizarre. She reached forward again, and this time the animal hissed and snapped at her fingers.

"Ow!" Elsa yelped, and cringed at how loud her voice was in the snowy emptiness. Her voice would carry out here, and she didn't want her parents getting angry with her for going out at night again- But she couldn't just let some baby animal die out in the cold.

"Listen, you." Elsa said, firmly. "You'll die out here if I don't bring you inside. I don't care if you don't like me—I don't want my sister to find you out here tomorrow, stiff and cold. It'd make her cry, and I'm-" Elsa coughed. I'm the only one who can make her cry. "You come inside, I'll feed you, you get warm, and then we go our separate ways. Do we have a deal?"

She felt a little foolish, waiting for an animal to indicate understanding, but she thought maybe she saw something in those eyes that indicated intelligence. The black scaly thing huffed, unfurling itself and taking a few hesitant, slow steps toward Elsa. Now that it wasn't half obfuscated by snow, the princess could easily see what had been hidden before.

Dragon. It was a dragon. It was only about the size of a kitten, but a dragon nonetheless. She looked down in panic, eyeing the scrawny little wings and slender tail but mostly focusing on the set of teeth she could see poking out of it's mouth; could she get away fast enough before the thing attacked her, or called it's mother down to raze the castle to the ground. At the thought of a bigger, angrier mama dragon she glanced at the night sky nervously. She didn't think any of the Arendelle knights were qualified to fight dragons and she really didn't want to have to explain to Father how she'd accidentally caused a dragon attack—

Something warm, slimy, and wet clamped around her ring finger. Elsa jumped, and looked down. "What the-" the little black dragon was gumming her finger with a mouth without teeth. T"I swear you bit me earlier. And I know I saw teeth." She muttered, her heart rapidly melting under the crooning sounds the little reptile was making. It was… adorable. It almost looked like it was smiling at her, with its head tilted just so and its lip curled upwards slightly.

She reached out with a tentative hand, and the dragon nuzzled her hand, leaning into the warmth of her palm and purring. It'd been two years since she'd started avoiding Anna, and she was a very lonely ten year old; Mama and Papa wouldn't let her get a pet, afraid she'd kill it accidentally or something. But this…

"At least you seem to think I'm safe to be around, even if you're just using me." Elsa murmured. She gestured to her lap, and the dragon hopped into the warm cradle formed by her knees, settling down like it belonged there. "For my body heat, of all things." The irony was not lost on her. The baby dragon snorted, tucking its head beneath its wing and curling tightly. It was still shivering.

Should I take it inside? She wondered, scratching at one of the crests on the things head for a second. Mama and Papa will be angry. They'd never allow it. A dragon, in the castle? No way. Elsa grit her teeth against the resentment building in her chest and ignored the frost clinging to the hem of her thin shirt. They never let her do anything.

But… Elsa smiled a little, gathering up the dragon in her arms and ignoring the slightly irritated grumbling of the little beast. What her parents didn't know wouldn't hurt them.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing she needed to do, Elsa decided, was give it a name. Well, technically the second thing she needed to do was give it a name. She’d already fed it a whole hunk of salted beef and a huge fillet of sea bass. Weakness that she’d thought came from the cold snow outside had mostly been from hunger, and the little dragon had bounced back rather quickly once his belly had been packed full of pilfered food. His? Her? Its? She really didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl but… Elsa cocked her head at the way the dragon disdainfully sniffed at her pink bed curtains. It was probably a boy dragon.

“I don’t suppose you already have a name?” she asked hopefully. The dragon perked up at the sound of her voice, and crooned… and then turned back to pawing at her curtains. “Of course not.”

She was terrible at naming things. When she and Anna used to play Pretend, it was Anna who had to do most of the imagining—Elsa just couldn’t get her mind around it; she named a snowman Olaf for heavens sake! The name was as common in Arendelle as dirt, and Anna had giggled at her for it, asking why she hadn’t named him after the frost giants in the old tales that their mother told them before they went to sleep every night.

And then they’d had the accident and—

Elsa swallowed against the lump in her throat, trying to push the icy touch of Anna’s skin on her hands out of her memory. She glanced at the dragon in the corner, who was now batting at the curtains like a kitten, mouth gaped open and tongue lolled out like a panting dog. What if she hurt him like she hurt Anna—what if one day she woke up to find the little guy frozen solid because she lost control during a bad dream?

Suddenly, keeping him seemed like a bad idea.

She looked outside, noting the rosy hint of the blue morning. It was nearly sunup, and if she went outside now someone would see her.

“I guess you get one more day.” She told the dragon reluctantly, walking over to him and crouching low. She rubbed at his belly, smiling a little at the soft noises of happiness that he made at the motion. “And then it’s back outside—“

There came a knock from the door, and Elsa jumped. It was a single knock, not the three rhythmic taps that Anna always used so that meant—

“Elsa? Are you awake?” Her mother’s voice called through the door.

“Uh- yes. Just… give me a minute!” she said, panicking. Where could she hide him? Mother was here to help her get dressed, so the dressers and wardrobe weren’t an option. Maybe her bed? 

“Come here boy.” Elsa whispered, gesturing at the dragon. He bounded over, his claws skidding on the flagstones. She pushed him towards the bed, ignoring his confused sounds. “Stay under here, alright?”   
The dragon looked up at her, confused. He peeked out from beneath the fringe of her bed, the pink cloth resting like a nun’s wimple on his little black head. “Hide.” Elsa gently pushed his nose back beneath her bed, giving him an affectionate pat as she did.

“Elsa, I’m coming in!” her mother said. The door started to open (slowly; the hinges and doorframe were rusted and swollen from the constant freezing and melting) and Elsa had just enough time to launch herself across the room to sit at her vanity. 

“Hello Mother.” Elsa said calmly, swallowing against her heard pounding in her throat. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a pair of bright green eyes peering at her from the shadows beneath the her four poster bed.

“Goodness, you’re up early.” The Queen of Arendelle smiled, sweeping across the room to stand behind her daughter in the mirror. She placed a warm hand on Elsa’s shoulder. “I usually have to pry your sister out of bed in the mornings.”

“Really?” Elsa asked and turned to look at her mother. When they had shared a room, Anna had always been up first; often she awoke before the sun even brushed over the mountains, to her elder sisters chagrin.

“Oh yes. She loathes mornings.” Mother nodded, taking the silver backed brush from the vanity table with one hand and slipping the hair ribbon off of the end of Elsa’s braid with the other. At the gentlest touch of the Queen’s hand, Elsa’s hair slipped out of her braid and framed her face. “And her hair is nothing like yours. I don’t think your hair would tangle if I tied it in knots. Anna’s on the other hand…” Mother shook her head ruefully. “That girl goes to bed with the tightest, most orderly braids and wakes up with a rats nest. It’s incredible.”

“I bet it takes hours for her to brush it out.” Elsa said, and if her voice sounded a little forlorn her mother took no notice of it. So dramatic and sudden had her withdrawal from Anna’s life that Elsa was acutely aware of how ignorant she was of her sister’s habits and the little facts of her life. She was starved for the little stories mother told her, the off-handed comments of her father when he let her sit with him in his study. They were signs that she doing the right thing, and that her ever present fear and misery were worth it as long as Anna was happy.

“Oh yes. It drives her mad—she’s so impatient, your sister.” Mother said, deftly pinning Elsa’s redone braid to her head. She was oblivious to her eldest daughters melancholy; Elsa had noticed the increased distance between her parents, a widening gulf that deepened every time she had an accident with her powers. Maybe, if she could just control it, they could all be a family again. 

Which was why she was so angry every time she plunged her room into a premature winter. And why she sometimes felt like she could burst into tears any second—but she didn’t dare while her parents were in the room. Instead of comforting her, they usually reminded her of the volatile nature of her powers and how she couldn’t cry now, she might make it worse—

“Elsa? Are you listening?”

“Sorry Mother.” Elsa said, robotically. Her voice was thick in her throat and she swallowed her tears roughly.

“Please listen, Elsa.” Mother admonished, her back was turned so she didn’t see Elsa’s crumpled expression or hunched shoulders. “As I was saying, your tutor is sick today so no lessons.” The ‘so you’ll be staying in your room today’ was implied.

“Yes Mother.” Elsa said.

“You’re such a good girl.” The Queen said, giving her a smile that was genuine, if strained. She moved to the door and jerked it open. “Breakfast will be up shortly.” The door clicked quietly behind her.

As soon as she was alone, Elsa allowed her shoulders to shake freely. Salty tears dripped to the end of her nose and then crystalized into salty marbles that plopped onto her lap and rolled along the creases of her dress. Cold air billowed in time with her sobs, and only the knowledge that she was disappointing her parents and Anna again made her take a few measured breaths. 

“Don’t feel.” Elsa muttered, hiding her face in her arms and rocking. “Don’t feel. Don’t feel. Don’t feel.”

A rough, wet tongue lapped at her exposed hand, melting the frost adorning her knuckles. 

“Wha-“ Elsa looked up, only to find herself face to face with the little dragon that’d been obediently hiding beneath her bed until her mother left. His little tongue was lolly, and he was doing that animal-smile that was so utterly charming that Elsa could only laugh wetly. With a wet schick, his teeth disappeared, and he chewed playfully on her clothed arm, almost dragging her from the vanity chair.

“H-hey!” Elsa gasped, sputtering as he pressed heavy feet onto her stomach and driving all the air from her lungs. “You’re heavy!”

The dragon ignored her and licked at her face, lapping all of the salt from her tears and making a throaty call that, if Elsa was asked, she would have to call laughter.

“Alright, alright.” Elsa sniffed, smiling fully now. She rolled, tipping her new friend off of her and throwing her arm around his body. He was a comforting weight at her side, and he crooned when Elsa thrust her nose into his warm side. His tail wrapped protectively around her waist, and as Elsa breathed deep (he smelled like fire, pine, and snow), she felt the best she had in a while.

She supposed warm hugs would do that to people.


	3. Chapter 3

Elsa resigned herself to calling him Tooth. He was certainly fond of chewing on everything (her bedposts, the icicles that dripped off of the windowsill, the baseboard) and then retracting his teeth when she caught him at it. He’d blink at her, his eyes wide and innocent looking, with a gummy mouth as if asking Who, me?

So yeah. His name was Tooth.

As far as dragon’s went, Elsa’s expertise barely covered naming them. And she didn’t know how she could go up to the palace librarian and ask for a pamphlet on how to potty-train a dragon, now could she? From what she’d been able to get with poorly concocted tales about reading assignments, all she could glean was that dragons could breath fire, they were evil, and that they often hoarded gold. Oh, and they had a tendency to steal princesses and get killed by knights.

Elsa grimaced at a particularly colorful illustration of a dragon burning a few peasants to a crisp. The book went on in excruciating detail about the devouring of maidens, the burning of St George, and the inevitable, bloody death for all involved. She looked up from the book and glanced over at Tooth, who was looking particularly unthreatening today.

In the week that he’d stayed in her room, she’d learned a lot about her new companion and his more annoying habits. He liked to laze in the sun, sprawling as wide as he could with his wings outstretched. It was… inconvenient at the best of times, because Tooth’s wingspan usually managed to place his wings in the mostly likely place for Elsa to trip on it.

“I don’t even know why you sleep like that.” Elsa said to her new friend. “You always end up curled into a little ball.” She looked at him with narrow eyes. “You’re not doing it just to be annoying, are you?”

Tooth huffed, rolling green eyes in a playful manner. His tongue did that adorable thing where it lolled out of his mouth—“Fine, fine” Elsa waved her hand dismissively. “Lay how you want you lazy lizard.”

She turned back to her book only to wrinkled her nose at the graphic depiction of a king getting buried alive in molten dragon gold.

“Ugh.” Elsa quickly closed the book, shoving it away from her with a queasy stomach. “Disgusting.”

A knock at the door. Elsa froze, her hand hovering over her mouth as she whipped her head around to stare at her bedroom door.

“Elsa?”

Oh god. Anna.

“Elsa, are you in there?” Anna’s voice sounded a little deeper, and rough, as if she was just getting over a cold. “I was just wondering, um—do you wanna go build a snowman? It snowed today, which, um you can see from your window obviously so—but I just though I should ask you if you wanted to. Build a snowman with me, that is.” Anna’s voice trailed off hopefully.

Elsa’s heart was lodged so hard in her throat that she was having difficulty breathing. Because she wanted to. She wanted to go run around the castle grounds in broad daylight without having to put on a cloak for appearances sake, or stay away from her sister for her own good—

But she had to. It was the way it had to be.

Long minutes trailed away, and Elsa almost held her breath, as if to keep Anna from sensing the longing that curled in her belly and was almost tangible in her exhale. The silence was excruciating; Elsa could hear the creak in the boards outside as Anna shifted from foot to foot.

“Um, okay. I guess some other time then.” Anna’s voice sounded absolutely broken. As if something was damaged irreparably. Her footsteps were halting, as if she was looking back every other step.

Eventually there was silence.

Elsa managed not to cry this time, but it was a near thing. She turned to look at Tooth, and gave him a watery smile. “Sisters, right?”

Tooth cocked her head at her, his eyes slightly narrowed.

“It’s for her own good.” She said shakily. 

Tooth’s expression could only be described as unimpressed. He gave her a little bit of a cold shoulder for the rest of the day, but at the end of the day he gave her a little lick on the cheek that she took as a sign of his forgiveness.

He hopped up on her bed, nosing deep into her comforter. He assumed the position he usually did on her floor—spread eagled, with wings stretched out so far as to fall off the edges of the bed.

“Are you going to leave any room for me?” Elsa giggled.

Tooth grunted, and lazily lifted one wing and grunted; though his eyes were still closed, Elsa imagined his eyes would be shining with something like mischief.

“Fine.” Elsa huffed. She crawled under his wing, glancing upward at the supple skin and miniscule scales that covered his wings from body to tip. Like a warm tent that pulsed around her.

Tooth’s snout nuzzled the nape of her neck, warm breath blowing at the baby hairs that grew at her hairline. 

Elsa fell asleep with the world breathing around her.


End file.
